Fade to Void
by MortiferSB
Summary: Welcome to Fereldan, Louise! Don't insult their dogs, they'll declare war.
1. Chapter 1

Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, Noble and Mage, ran.

"This isn't meant to happen. This isn't meant to happen."

All she wanted was to prove herself. Prove she wasn't a failure. Prove she wasn't a Zero.

So how had a simple summoning spell ended with... this?

This orcish creature behind her laughed.

Small, with greyish skin and sharp, jagged teeth, the creature had seen her within moments of her failed summoning.

It made no sense. Why had the summoning taken her here? What purpose could it have? The spell was meant to summon the familiar suited for the mage, but...

She had failed. That's it. She had failed the summoning spell so much, it had taken _her _to here...

Why?

The creature had immediately attacked her, with _magic_, and knocked her wand away from her hand.

Why?

She has to run. She has to get away. She has to-

The blast of magic blasts into her legs, knocking her over.

No... No!

She tries to get up, but the _thing _gets to her first, and hits her with it's staff.

Why?

With a cry of pain, Louise crumbles to the ground. The thing chuckles, and kicks her.

Why?

Why was the creature attacking her? Why was it chuckling? Why Why Why Why Why Wh-

Because it could, she realised. It didn't need a reason.

Louise feels the tears running down her face.

"Mirath! Genlock!"

The arrow hits the small, orc-like monster through the skull, splattering her in it's blood. It turns and screeches.

Impossible. No beast should be able to survive an arrow through the skull.

No _living _beast...

A second arrow hits it's skull. The creature raises it's staff and fires.

What was the point? The thing hadn't even tired itself to subdue her, and the arrows-

A third arrow hits the monster, and it grunts in pain.

Pain.

Whoever was fighting the creature had hurt it.

It could be hurt. And if it could be hurt...

Coughing, Louise starts crawling to where the creature had thrown her wand.

The thing can be beaten. She just needs to get to her wand. She just needs to...

The creature turns to her and jabs it's staff.

Fire consumes her, and she screams.

"Shem'len!" The archer shouts in surprise.

The fire, it burns. It burns. It _burnsitburnsitburnsitburnsitburns._

She wants to stop. To die. The pain...

Mother wouldn't stop. Mother would keep trying, even if it was hopeless.

Mother would want her to do it.

Just get the wand... _There._

Turning, she see's the creature firing at the archer. She just has to aim...

"Firball!"

The orc-thing shrieks as the explosion tears through it.

Missing an arm, the monster- _how is it not dead yet_- turns to her and-

-And is impaled by twin daggers.

"Alas Genlock." Hiss's a different- and female- voice.

The creature flails around a bit more, before it's attacker pulls one of the daggers out, and beheads the creature.

Vision blurring, Louise calls out.

""H-hel..."

Someone- the archer, she thinks- rushes to her as she losses consciousness.

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Darkspawn.

Mirath had heard the rumours of a Blight, of course, but all the sightings had been near the Korcari Wilds. For Darkspawn to come this far north...

"The Shem'len is alive." Calls Tamlen, snapping Mirath out of her pondering.

"How is she?" Asks Mirath.

"Injured. We might have to take her back to camp, so the Keeper can heal her wounds."

"Are you insane?" Snaps Mirath. "Taking a Shem back into the camp... Even if the Keeper agrees to it, we have no idea how the others will react. And this is assuming the Shem'len doesn't attack us the moment she wakes up."

"Aren't you curious?" Asks Tamlen. "Shem'len do not usually have _pink _hair."

He... Has a point, Mirath admits. Even if it's just some sort of Mage thing, it's still odd.

"Fine." Sighs Mirath. "But let's check the ruins first. There was a Genlock in here, and there could be more Darkspawn."

Tamlen nods, pouring a Healing Poultice down the Shem'len's throat, and picks the girl up.

"I'll scout ahead." Says Mirath, fading into the shadows.

There was only one more room in the ruins, as it turns out. And in that room was a mirror.

The mirror was large, with two faceless statues on either side.

Tamlen laid the Shem'len on the ground, and went to look at the mirror.

"Admiring yourself, are we?" Asks Mirath.

"Can't you see that?"

"See what?"

"That. In the mirror. It's like some sort of city..."

"It's also Tainted." Comes a voice from behind them. The two elves turn.

"Greetings. My name is Duncan, Grey Warden of Fereldan."

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Duncan scans the room.

Two Dalish elves, one dangerously close to the tainted Mirror, the other standing near an unconscious, pink haired human...

This was going to be one of those days, wasn't it?

"What do you mean it's tainted?" Asks the male elf.

"It's got the Darkspawn taint all other it." Replies Duncan. "I'm sure your Keeper has told you about the Darkspawn taint."

The female elf frowns. "...That explains the Genlock..."

She pauses, and then turns to the Warden. "My apologies. I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Mirath, and this is Tamlen."

Duncan smiles. "A pleasure to meet you, Mirath."

"What about the city?" Asks Tamlen. "In the mirror. It's some sort of fancy city..."

Duncan walks towards the mirror, feeling out with what Alistair often called the 'Warden-Sense.'

Sure enough, there is a city in the mirror. And judging by the feel...

"An Eluvian." States Duncan. "Old Tevinter artefacts, although I cannot recall their purpose. That city... It looks like the Deep Roads."

Although... Did the mirror just change? A blue haired man with an emotionless expression...

No, it's the Deep Roads. It must've been a trick of the light.

Drawing his blade, Duncan turns to the elves.

"Such a tainted device is to dangerous to leave lying around intact."

With a swing of his arm, Duncan smashes the mirror with the hilt of his blade.

As the Eluvian collapses, a fragmented view of a golden haired man with a staff could be seen for a single moment, before vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared.

Duncan sheathed his blade. "Now, can someone tell me about the pink haired girl?"

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Marethari sighs.

Darkspawn had been sighted, Tamlen had almost touched a very, very Tainted item, and a mysterious Pink haired Mage had appeared from no-where.

Usually, the Dalish Keeper would have been confused. However, Duncan is in the area, so it all made sense.

In fact, since Duncan is in the area, the series of events of events so far have been rather tame.

The odd thing was, the girl has an enormous presence in the Beyond, and yet has attracted no Demons. Almost as if the girl has some sort of Divine Protection...

Merrill, the First, is currently watching the girl. Looking over, Marethari notices that some elf children were braiding the girls hair with flowers.

Hopefully, the girl would remain unconscious throughout the process. Marethari knew how most Shem'len acted around elves, and if she lashed out with magic...

Marethari shakes her head. This was all Duncan's fault.

Well, at least it isn't as bad as The Potato Incident.

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Louise groans.

The dream was horrible, she decides. More like a nightmare.

Still, she can't let it deter her. Just because she had a bad dream about her summoning going wrong doesn't mean she will avoid the ritual-

What, who's playing with her hair.

Opening her eyes- _Why does the sun have to be so bright?- _Louise looks at the sight before her.

...What happened to her room? Why is there a forest near her? Why is the elf smiling at her? And why is the- wait.

Elf.

Elf.

_Elf._

Reaching for her wand, Louise screams.


	2. Chapter 2

Louise screams.

The elf- _elf_- looks surprised.

Elf.

First the orc-demon thing, and now...

...Now her wand is missing.

The elf says something in a foreign tongue. A spell?

Louise crawls backwards, barely noticing that she's on some sort of Infirmary bed. If the elf is using elvish magic...

Louise's thought process is cut of by her reaching the end of the bed and falling off.

Louise cries out, closes her eyes and waits for impact...

...which never comes.

After a moment, the terrified Noble opens her eyes.

A giant, glowing rune laid on the ground below her. The elf- a female elf, it looks like- is standing over her, talking waiting to catch her when she falls.

It takes all of Louise's willpower to not just faint. Instead, she screams again.

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"Ah! No, it's okay, it's just a Glyph of Paralysis! Uh- stop screaming, please? I just need to make sure you healed properly! Don't worry, the Glyph should wear off in a minu-"

"...Merrill..." Sighs Mirath.

"Oh! Hi Mirath! Could you help me calm her down?" Merrill gestures to the still screaming girl. "She won't stop, and you're more diplomatic than me."

Mirath sighs again. "I only heard her speak once in the Ruins, but I don't think she was talking Fereldan..."

"Really? Oh, I've always wanted to talk another language. I mean, other than Dalish, but most of the Dalish language was lost years ago, so we can't really talk that properly, and-" Merrill is cut off by the Glyph of Paralysis flickering out of existence, and the pink-haired girl falling into her arms.

The girl says something in a language that neither Elf recognises, and tries to hit the Dalish mage

Mirath grabs the girl. "Okay, why don't _you-" _She taps the mage on the chest, causing the girl to flinch. "-stay _here-" _Mirath taps the mattress "-while_ I_-" Taps herself. "-go get the _Keeper-" _Points towards the general direction of said Keeper. "-so that she can help us _talk." _Here, Mirath points at her mouth and mimes some gibberish.

The pink haired mage starts hyperventilating.

Mirath sighs. "Or I could stay here and make sure you don't hurt anyone until the Keeper comes here to investigate why you screamed. That might be safer."

Merrill frowns. "I doubt she'd be much of a threat. You said that she used Magic, and we took her Wand... What kind of Mage uses a Wand anyway?"

"The kind that can blow a Genlock's arm off, singing the rest of the body, with one spell, while on fire." Responds Mirath.

"Ah."

"And just because she's unarmed doesn't mean she's dangerous. I've seen you cast spells without your staff."

"Yes, but it requires much more concentration and uses up more Mana. I doubt she can concentrate right now." Explains the Dalish First.

"And she could always go for the common Shem'len method of fighting dirty."

"You do that to, though."

"My _point_," Mirath cuts in, "Is she could poke your eye out if she panics."

"...Good point."

"Hey!" Calls a voice. The pink haired girl flinches, and curl into a ball. Mirath and Merrill look over, to see Tamlen walking over.

"So, what's up with the Shem'len? I didn't expect her to just... panic like that. Not after the Genlock."

"I'd tell you if I knew, Tamlen." Says Mirath. "She doesn't speak Fereldan."

Then she sighs again. "Where is the Keeper? She should've come when she heard the scream."

"She's talking to the Grey Warden." Replies Tamlen. "I overheard him talking about recruits."

"Looking for recruits?" Asks Merrill. "I wonder why. I mean, Grey Wardens don't recruit often, don't they? At least, I think they don't. Not from the Dalish, at least. Oh, she's panicking again."

The pink haired Shem'len continues hyperventilating, seemingly noticed the flowers that the younger elves had braided into her hair.

"I'll calm her down." Says Merrill.

Mirath sighs again. "The sooner the Keeper gets here and tries talking to her the better... Ah, there she is."

Marethari and Duncan walk over, discussing something that seems extremely important.

"Let's just hope she can understand whatever the Shem'len is saying." Replies Tamlen.

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"I have no idea what she is saying." Says Marethari.

Tamlen resists the urge to facepalm.

"Seriously?" Asks Mirath. "You have no idea what she's saying? How many languages do you speak, anyway?"

"The more important question," Replies the Dalish Keeper, "Is how many she speaks."

Mirath's eyes widen in understanding, as Marethari kneeled in front of the Shem'len.

The pink haired mage had curled into a ball and was muttering something that sounded like a prayer.

"Can you understand me?" Asks Marethari, speaking in Antivan. The girl doesn't respond.

Marethari frowns, and repeats her question in Tevene. Again, the girl doesn't respond.

Frowning, the Dalish Keeper switches to Orlesian.

"Can you understand me now?"

The pink haired girl stops her muttering, and looks up.

Feeling hopeful, Marethari repeats her question, still in Orlesian.

The girl nods slowly.

"Here we go." Mutters the Dalish Keeper. "Progress."

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Louise was having a bad day.

The failed summoning had somehow transferred her to a set of ruins, home of some sort of orc monster mage thing.

Then, after she had fallen unconscious, she had woken up amongst _elves._

She is alone, curled into a little ball, like a child.

What should she do? What _could _she do? Not even Mother could fight a camp full of Elves, and she wasn't anything near Mothers level. She was just a failure, a pathetic-

"Understand, Thy can?"

...Elves speak Gallian? Really, really outdated Gallian, with horrible grammar...

Peeking up, out of her little ball- _ohFounderwhyistheelfsoclose- _the noble supresses a sniffle. She notices that the elf has some sort of marking on it's face... Maybe it's a sign of rank? Or maybe it's something to do with age, or... This was a clan, wasn't it? Maybe the markings vary depending on the clan?

The elf repeats it's question, cutting Louise out of her train of thought.

Slowly, Louise nods. It's... talking. Maybe it wants to mock her? Then why was it being so... calming? Maybe it was trying to get her hopes up?

The elf mutters something, then turns to it's companions.

They talk in another language for a bit, before the tallest one coming closer and kneeling down in front of he-

...Wait.

He's _human._

Why is he here? Why is he not being attacked? Why is-

"Name thee?"

...He's human. And... she _thinks _that he's asking her name. That dialect and grammar really is horrible. But that's not the point.

...Maybe...

...Maybe if she does what they say, they'll let her go? Or maybe she can just pretend until she can escape?

Yes, that's a good plan. Mother would do that. She should try it.

...Wait. He's looking at her. She should answer the question.

"...L-Louise." She stutters.

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The Chantry has a story, about the origins of Spirits and Demons.

"You felt it, I presume?"

They are said to be the Maker's first children, Demons and Spirits are the same, with one difference.

"Of course. How could we not?"

Inhabitants of the Fade, Spirits are content to spend their lives enjoying what they have.

"He has kept his legacy alive. We should have crushed him when we had the chance."

Demons, however, grew jealous of those who lived outside the Fade.

"When? Before we knew of his power, or after he mastered it?"

Demons of Rage, Hunger, Sloth, Desire and Pride.

"This is your fault! If you had just let us-"

"**Enough."**

The voice of Pride is enough to stop the bickering.

**"What has passed has passed. It is no longer important."**

Silence reigns for a moment.

"What do we do?"

"I say we lure the heir to an Artefact. The Anvil, maybe."

"So, you want to make our first chance in millennium fight through the Deep Roads, further than anyone has gotten in years? Great plan."

"Okay then, what do _you_ think we should do?"

"We should scout out the heir. We were too rushed with him, but we have time here. The heir is distant enough from most conflicts. We see what they want, then plan on how to take them."

"I like that plan. It's a good plan."

"...Bah, fine."

"**All in favour?"**

Four voices rang out in response. The result was anonymous.

"**Then it is decided. We shall observe the heir, and thus stare into the heart of the Void. We shall discuss later."**


	3. Chapter 3

Louise stumbles towards the human, as night falls.

It had been three hours since the elves had spoken to her. After they had discovered her name, the human said... something... to the elves, and they had left her alone for a bit. He had said that they were going to give her time to 'calm down' or something like that.

Since it was getting dark, it was time to put her plan into action.

The human looked over at her, and raised an eyebrow?

"Where's the bathroom?" Asked Louise. The human frowned, as if thinking, before turning and saying something to the elf that had spoken to her. Thinking about it, Louise realises that none of the other elves had spoken to her in a language she could understand...

"Way there." The elf interrupts her, pointing to the forest.

...Primitives. They don't even have plumbing...

Still, now was a good time to put her plan into action.

Walking into the forest, Louise waits until she is out of earshot of the camp.

Then she runs.

Running, running, running...

Eventually, Louise has to stop. Panting, she looks around, and notices a clearing.

Walking, Louise looks up, sees the moon and-

Wait.

Moon. Singular.

But... that's impossible. There are two moons. Louise knows that. _everybody _knows that.

Maybe it's an illusion? An elven trick? But what would be the point?

Maybe... Maybe...

...This isn't right. Unless the summoning had sent her to an entirely different world...

Louise's train of thought is interrupted by a harsh laugh coming from behind her.

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"All right men." Says the Mercenary Leader. "I don't need to tell you while we're here. We just find that Elf and get him back to Denerim. And be careful; rumour has it that Dalish are in the area."

The group nods, checking their weapons.

"Okay, you five go right, you five go left, you six go along and make sure the others don't get flanked, the rest of you with me."

Moving out, the leader thinks about the job.

A knife-ears, arrested for thievery, had escaped- and, if the reports are accurate, was heading for a Dalish clan.

The job was obviously more important then it seemed, since someone had actually hired them for the job. Possible a Noble with a grudge.

Still, no questions asked was his policy. It had netted him some important jobs in the past, and he wasn't going to go back on that just to satisfy his curiosity.

"Sir, we have a clearing up ahead." Says one of the mercenary scouts.

The leader nods. "Alright, spread out around the clearing. If he's in there, we'll hit him from all sides."

Slowing down, making sure not to make any noise, the mercenaries look into the clearing, and...

"...It's a girl." Notes the leader of the group, before thinking. "We should have enough food to get her to a Slaver, if we ration it."

"Nice clothing." Speaks up one of the men. "Should be worth a lot."

"And the Tevinter are paying extra for exotic goods, too. You don't get much more exotic then that. I mean, her hair is _pink, _for Andraste's sake_._"

The leader chuckles. "Then let's get to work."

The girl hears the laugh, and turns to the general direction of the mercenary leader. The man walks out, smiling cruelly.

"Well, well, well." He says. "Lost, girl?"

The girl frowns, and says something in a language he doesn't recognise.

"...Don't speak Fereldan, huh? Ah, screw it."

He walks up to her, and grabs her arm. The girl shouts something, and pulls her arm back.

The mercenary leader grins, not letting go of her arm. The pinkette glares at him, then slaps him.

The man snarls. "You little _bitch."_

Quickly, the man draws his blade, lunges forward, and holds it at the girls throat.

The girl freezes, looking at the blade.

"If you don't understand me, then understand my sword; You'll be coming with me now. Be nice, and I might tell the men not to force themselves on you when they get bored." He smiles cruelly at her glare. "Whenever they listen is another matter, of cou-"

The man is interrupted arrow by an arrow through the eye.

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Tamlen lets a second arrow fly, hitting the man attempting to aid his leader.

The pink haired girl reaches for something at her waist, before stopping. Tamlen rolls his eyes. By the Creators, she can't even remember that they took her wand!

The mercenaries, realising that they were under attack, respond in different ways. Some panic. Some attack, and get arrows in the eyes for their trouble.

Tamlen has to admit, though, he pities those who run.

In the general direction of the running, a body falls.

And then another.

And another.

The girl, meanwhile, just stares at the corpses.

Tamlen fires another arrow, which is blocked by a mercenary's shield, before getting hit in the arm by an arrow.

Gritting his teeth, Tamlen ducks behind a tree and chugs a Poultice, before twisting and firing a few arrows at the archer who had hit him. The two exchange shots for a few seconds, before Tamlen changes target to the shield-using mercenary.

The shield-user advances, blocking all of Tamlen's arrows. The Dalish elf grunts in frustration, before reaching for his belt and throwing.

The man screams as the acid flask shatters on his helmet, burning his face. Tamlen takes the chance and fires through his helmet. Then he fires at the stunned archer, hitting his heart.

All the Shem'len, including the pink haired mage, stop and look at him.

"Okay!" Calls Tamlen, moving into the clearing. "Those still alive, come into the clearing and get on your knee's, and we might let you live!"

Six Mercenaries walk into the clearing. Slowly five of them get to their knees.

The sixth panics, and charges at Tamlen. Tamlen just drops his bow.

A second later, a knife hits the man in the knee.

Smirking, Mirath comes out of the shadows, before drawing her knife against the Shem's throat.

The pinkette stares at the corpses in horror.

Slowly, Mirath walks over to the mercenaries, looking over their stuff.

"Nice blade." She says to the middle one. "Do you mind if I have it?"

The man stutters for a bit, before answering. "A-all y-yours."

"Good." She says. "And thanks for all the coin you're all about to offer me."

Hurriedly, the men get out their coin pouches, and throw them at Mirath's feet.

"Good boys." She nods. The men shuffle uncomfortably, before one of them stands up.

"A-are you going to kill us?" He asks.

"...Nah." Mirath decides. "Enough loot here for now, and I_ know _that you guys aren't coming back. Am I right?"

"Y-yes, miss."

"Good, good. Now run, before I change my mind."

Four of the men run immediately. The fifth remains for a moment, watching Mirath and Tamlen, before joining them.

"So..." Starts Tamlen. "Should we get the girl- Louise, was it- back to camp?"

The mage turns at the mention of her name, and Tamlen notices that she looks like she's never seen so much death.

"You do that. I'm going to start looting corpses." Replies Mirath pinking up the coin pouches. "Ooh, this one's heavy!"

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Marethari, Keeper of the Dalish, frowns, as she sits near the ire.

"Okay Duncan, I thinks it's time we talked."

The Grey Warden turns to her.

"Why are you here? And why are there Darkspawn this far north?"

Duncan tilts his head.

"...You've heard the rumours, then?"

"Of the Darkspawn in the Korcari Wilds? I've heard them. Your king is holding them there, last I heard."

Duncan sighs. "It is worse then he thinks, I'm afraid."

Marethari looks at him. "You can't mean-"

"An Archdemon has risen. A blight is upon us."

The Dalish Keeper stares at the Grey Warden for a moment, before turning and looking at the fire. "That's why you're here, isn't it? You're trying to recruit more Wardens?"

The Warden nods. "Yes, Marethari. Although some help with fighting the horde at Ostagar, without bolstering the Wardens numbers,, would also be appreciated."

A muffled sound comes from the woods around them, and Duncan turns. "And here come one of the potential candidates now."

The Keeper follows his gaze. "Tamlen? He is a fine warrior, true, but he tends to be over-curious."

Duncan shrugs. "That is not always a bad thing."

"It's not often a good thing." Counters the elf, before sighing. "Can we talk about this later, Duncan? I think it's time we talked with out guest some more."

Duncan nods. "Very well."

Tamlen walks other to the two, and Marethari frowns.

"Why is she covered in blood?" She asks. "And where is Mirath?"

"Bandits." Replies Tamlen.

The Keeper nods in understanding. "Do you mind leaving the girl with me?"

"Sure." Replies Tamlen. "She probably won't say much, though. I don't think she's seen much combat before today."

Duncan frowns. "Didn't you say she blew up a Genlock in the ruins you found?" He asks.

Tamlen thinks for a moment. "Well, maybe it's because the Genlock isn't human?"

Duncan pauses. "Yes, that might be it."

Ignoring them, the Keeper kneels in front of the girl. "Where do you come from." She asks.

The girl- Louise, Marethari reminds herself- babbles for a bit. Something to do with the moons.

"Where do you come from." Repeats Marethari, in a harsher tone.

The girl stops babbling, and looks at the elf Keeper, with tears in her eyes.

"H-Halkeginia." She whispers.

The Keeper frowns, but before she can ask for clarification, the girl starts babbling again.

"W-why... M-moons... M-missing... diffe-different... Not home..."

The Keeper frowns, and Duncan pauses, thinking.

"...Marethari?" He asks.

"Yes, Duncan?"

"Do you have any old texts about Eluvium?"

The Keeper thinks for a moment. "...I think there might be some around here somewhere. I'll have Merrill look for them. Why?"

The Warden sighs. "I just remembered an old rumour. I just hope I'm wrong."

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Merrill carefully scans the scroll.

_And when-_ unreadable- _the eternal - _unreadable... No, this was no good.

The pink haired mage, sitting near the Keeper, babbles something, and Merrill looks over.

The mage was a... Curiosity. She was obviously a powerful mage, but had little- if any- combat experience. And then there was her presence in the Beyond- the Fade, as Shem'len called it.

And then there was the hair. Hair isn't supposed to be pink. Even if it was a good shade, it was... odd.

Grabbing another scroll, Merrill quickly scans and translates as much as she can.

...What.

"I'm back." Calls a voice. Merrill looks over, and see's Mirath carrying a few swords, a shield, and a helmet.

"The rest of it's just other there." She gestures behind her. "I could use some help getting it."

"I'll help in a minute!" Calls Merrill. "I just need to show the Keeper something!"

For a moment, he eyes fall back on the scroll, back on the one sentence...

_An Eluvian, he called it... Beyond the Beyond... Twin moons left behind, in the old world... _


End file.
